A Chinese Ghost Story
by Kahlil Noriega
Summary: Alternate Universe, A tale of love, resurrected after a 100 years. Ranma, reincarnated and cursed; wanders the lands of the Medieval China in a journey that will lead him to worlds of ghosts and love. (Roughly based on the Movies)


Frost fills the sky over Ten Mile lake...  
Silken threads anxious of youth...  
Looking at the moon and feeling lonely...  
Envious of lovers, not of immortality...  
Envious of love, not of immortailty...   
  
- excerpt from the movie "A Chinese Ghost Story"  
  
  
  
  
A raven, a tiny insignificant dot against a restless burning sky; cold, and as   
unforgiving as the winds that bore its wings; while beneath it, churned the sea.   
  
Enticing like a lover, foaming at the mouth and tossing in a sheet of blue green   
waves that reached for the sky. The sea beckoned the raven, that it dive so that   
the sea might grasp the other in an unyielding embrace...  
  
Untouched, the raven flew on. Pass the burning ball that is the sun; its warm   
light reflecting off the raven's feathers like water spurning the touch of oil.   
Eyes darting, seeking, like the pulsing flashes of a camera it sought and   
yearned for the sight of land. The land of its destination; and the fulfillment   
of a promise a hundred years due, on the distant shores of China...  
  
And with a shriek, the raven reveled in the wind. Its voice carried in the   
shadows of the forests, through grasslands and myriad farm fields. To White   
Mountain in the far north looking like a jagged teeth tearing the sky open,   
blanketed in snow and echoing the ravens call to the valley beyond the western   
hills and the mouth of the Chuzen river.   
  
Golden wheat, like a sea, flooded the valley, rustling and swaying with each   
passage of the breeze. And farther still, the raven flew on until finally it   
reached a small hill with a pocket full of leafless trees with straggly and   
wispy branches on the top; and flanked on either side by tall dry grass as the   
raven slowly circled above it and scanned the far skies for something still   
unseen, before it finally glided down and perched on a low branch that   
overlooked an old abandoned mountain road.   
  
A road, parting a sea of grass freely swaying with the passage of the wind, its   
path, brown and dry as scorched soil would be under the heat of a blazing sun   
and slowly worn away by the wind and the rain. The road was littered with an   
assortment of stones and pebbles both large and small as well as an assortment   
of withered leaves that tumbled and danced in the breeze. This road led to the   
mountains in the horizon, and beyond it a fertile valley of lush forest trees   
and a small town beyond that; the sky above was empty except for a few patches   
of slow drifting clouds, and the raven settled down on it's perch...   
  
The stranger, like an apparition, seemingly rose from the bottom of the ground   
as he rounded the hill on slow sure purposeful strides. His image was obscured   
by the heat of the sun, making him look blurry to the beholder, and only when he   
got stepped close enough to the tree was the raven then able to see the man   
clearly; for this much it knew from previous contact with its cold hard master.   
  
Calm and composed, the raven gave a sudden squawk of displeasure for the   
intrusion of the stranger to its domain.   
  
The stranger, the raven saw was a scholarly man who wore a cloth cap, tied in   
such a way that it formed a rectangle above the forehead and continued that   
shape onwards to the top and down the back of his head and pass his shoulders.   
The stranger also wore a blue long-sleeved heavy-cloth robe that fit snugly on   
his strong well-muscled chest; tied at the waist by a long piece of white cloth   
with the remainder of the strip clothe belt hanging loosely at his side. A loose   
fitting pair of gray pants and black shoes completed his dress, all of this was   
covered by a light coating of dust, which indicated hard travel done by this   
unusual stranger. A small bamboo rectangular-framed pack hung limply behind him   
as he held on to his long wooden walking staff.  
  
The man paused once he reached the top of the hill to wipe away the sweat that   
built up on his forehead. His pigtail peeked out when it tore lose of the cover   
given by the cloth cap as the stranger gave a sigh of contentment and leaned   
comfortably on his staff as he surveyed the surrounding countryside before him.   
  
Empty of life, save for the birds of the sky and the animals of the field, he   
thought sadly. Not a single person to be seen - he was alone, and he sighed   
another sigh, not out of tiredness, but of longing. For his journey on the road,   
as he saw it was going to an end. Staring at the long winding dirt road that   
lead to the foot of the mountains, Ranma stood in quiet contemplation of the   
journey ahead of him as the raven on its high perch, cold as the night that was   
steadfast approaching; launched itself in the air in a flurry of feathers,   
cutting through Ranma's reverie as he gazed up at the disappearing form of the   
black bird, in the slowly darkening sky. Its feathers falling on him like a slow   
black rain...  
  
His attention quickly changed as he felt the bite of the wind, cold and restless   
around him as he and turned around to look at the storm clouds slowly   
approaching.   
  
"It's going to get dark soon." Ranma voiced his thoughts, suddenly weary.   
  
"A storm is coming..." Ranma whispered to himself as he turned his back from the   
slowly darkening clouds.   
  
And with that final thought locked in his head, Ranma ran to reach the mountains   
just as the first black feather landed on the ground, accompanied by the thunder   
of the coming storm.   
  
  
  
  
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic - A Chinese Ghost Story  
By Kahlil Noriega   
  
  
  
Chapter 1 - Braving the Storm  
  
  
  
  
  
Storm clouds covered the sun in the horizon, bathed in crimson and chaotic gray,   
it sang like a wounded animal from a fray, absorbing what little light the sun   
had left to shed, before the halo of the moon comes to bring the sun to its   
weary end.  
  
It is still raining in the mountains, not as hard as it was a few hours ago and   
the sun was still a few hours away from setting, though the sun could hardly be   
seen with storm clouds covering most of the sky.   
  
The ground, still filled with moisture from the rain, was soft and slowly   
growing colder as thin tendrils of mist slowly rose from the ground to play in   
the suns dying light; darting in between the trees, rocks, and branches;   
blanketing the ground in soft sheet of white. Plants and grass swayed equally   
alike with the tap; tap, tapping of the rain and the passage of the wind.   
  
From a roadway at the base of the mountain border, one could see the whole   
valley stretched out from left to right. The trees, strong and sturdy, covered   
the vast undergrowth in a vale of green tender leaves. And even then, this   
canopy housed various birds and animals that considered it home.   
  
In this field of mammoth trees, the inn at the base of the mountain valley   
situated in a small clearing of its own by the road side, stood out like an eye   
sore against a backdrop of trees that it is easy enough to discern certain   
features for the inn itself wasn't far away from where one could see it from the   
mountain road. With its hanging windows, that remained attach by a single hinge,   
to the wide open doors that let some of the rain in. Its hard wood paneled walls   
painted in deep shades of brown, and green where moss had found itself a home.   
It is almost quite surprising that someone actually lives there for it was quite   
run down as the smoke coming out of the chimney said as much as the aroma of   
cooking food did. There was also a small pen for livestock at the back of the   
inn as well as a broken down wagon cart with its huge wheels lying down beside   
it and covered by dust, weeds and dirt.   
  
***  
  
From a distance, on a cliff looking over the inn and the mountain road, one   
could see a running form emerging from the forest edge. Her clothes, one could   
tell was female, was wet and disheveled, and clung tightly on her slight small   
frame as the sounds of splattering water echoed in the cold wind. The mild   
rumbles of thunder swallowed up most of the sounds of her footfalls on the   
puddles as much as, by the rain's continuous drumming that followed after.  
  
Running to escape the rain, Ranma clung hard to her cloth cap as it danced about   
in the rushing wind as she awkwardly ran with her wooden staff towards the   
nearby inn.  
  
***  
  
The inn, like so many of it's patrons was dirty and in dire need of repair. Its   
creaking wooden floors mimicked the sounds of mice that freely roamed the inns   
dusty interior. While the stench of aged old liquor and rotting meat mixed in   
with the sweat of its various patrons wafted freely outside through the myriad   
holes in the inns' walls as dirt and grime settled over the many tables and   
benches that lined it. A small counter was tucked into a corner of the inn   
beside the main doors on the right-hand side. The wall behind it held an   
assortment of plates, cups and saucers, some were even chipped and cracked from   
use as much as it was old and dusty. An old graying man stood behind this   
counter, worn and as bald as the inn he owned. Wearing only a dull blue Chinese   
robe over his gray pants and a piece of black clothe tied around his waist,   
which served as a belt. White socks, a black round Chinese cap and a pair of   
black shoes completed his attire as well as his remarkably long snow white beard   
that hung over his chest like a bib which he adoringly groomed in his hand like   
wringing a piece of clothe.  
  
After adjusting his black Chinese cap over his head, he surveyed the inns' dimly   
lighted interior. Giving only a hint of a nod to what he was thinking as his   
hand slowly rubbed his chin. Calling a waiter to his side, a young man of twelve   
to fourteen years or so, he asked the lad to light a few more candles on various   
tables to illuminate the place a bit more for it was getting dark outside and it   
seemed that the storm would not yet pass. Only when the boy left to do his   
chores did the old man noticed the boy. Sporting a close crop of black hair and   
brown eyes with a medium sized built. The old man thought that the boy really   
looked out of place in the inn with its gruff old waiters that seldom smiled.   
The boy would be a poor substitute indeed for a guard if ever a fight broke out,   
which it often did when a few men got a little too much to drink. He thought   
then that he really should talk to the lad about his job here, yet shoved the   
thought quickly aside as he greeted a customer about to leave the inn. There   
would be enough time for that later he thought musingly as he moved to take the   
orders of another customer.  
  
Waiters clothed in dull white shirts and gray pants freely circulated among its'   
many customers, while taking orders and giving them their respective meals.   
Always busy serving a variety of farmers that worked and toiled the fields all   
day to a group of town drunkards' bent on drowning their problems in ale. And   
even on occasion, a merchant or two would join in from a hard day's worth of   
trading in the market. While travelers in their dirt, covered robes would   
sometimes chat and speak of their grand tales to the folks inside the inn. And   
through it all, the waiters kept to themselves looking quietly at their   
customers with dull lifeless eyes. The laughter and the noise of the many   
patrons washing pass them, even though their talk was clearly audible from   
outside. So, they were quite surprised when a sudden hush settled over in the   
inns large interior. As all eyes were suddenly glued and focused on the new   
arrival standing by the door.   
  
Her figure, carved and outlined by the flashes of lightning outside was enough   
to catch most of the Patrons eyes that it remained glued to the door as the   
light behind her dimmed. Yet, the vision of her standing there by the doorway,   
still remained in their thoughts and strengthened when lightning flashed again.   
And they yearned even more for her soft sensual curves that her clothes poorly   
hid, wet from the rain and clinging on her skin. The heat of their desire, plain   
and visible to see, their lust devouring this scene from which this girl walked   
out like some fantasy.  
  
***  
  
Ranma walked in, oblivious of the hush and stares of the inns numerous patrons   
as she casually seated herself on a nearby wooden bench by the doors light. The   
light from the candle on top of the table cast shadows and hi-lights on her skin   
with its flickering luminous glow and reflecting in her eyes making them shine   
even in the darkness.   
  
Laying down her bamboo pack and staff gently beside her on the bench, Ranma   
pulled out a piece of white cloth from her bag and gently applied it on her cold   
wet body then on her face, her neck, down the slope where her tunic met and   
covered her the top of her cleavage, her arms, and finally her hands before   
discarding the piece of clothe on top of her bamboo pack. Her robe, damp and   
heavy with rainwater had one side draping her shoulder, exposing pale white   
flesh and a generous view of her ample cleavage as candlelight freely danced on   
her smooth skin. And more than one patron licked and rubbed their lips hungrily.   
  
Finding solace from the heat of the candle, Ranma relaxed and sighed with   
contentment as she felt the heat of the candle wash some of the coldness of the   
rain away. Its gentle warmth brought a slight smile to her face as she lifted   
her arms to undo her pigtail and let loose in the process, a cascade of long red   
hair that fell to the length of her back, which she gently gathered in her arms.   
Picking up again the piece of white cloth on top of her bag, she gently applied   
it on her fiery hair, drying it with slow soft strokes as though caressing a   
kitten in her hand. The men surrounding her couldn't believe their eyes as they   
kept thinking of the luck that brought them such a goddess in there midst.   
  
Piercing blue eyes shined in the darkness and the gloom of the inn's interior   
looked out from an oval face framed by hair the color of fire, excited their   
loins, while pale virgin lips slowly ignited the fires of lust in the room. Her   
clothes clung to her body with every breath and drawing each time a few more,   
appreciative eyes.   
  
Recollecting herself, Ranma quickly adjusted her garments, pulling her soaked   
robes closer to her as she felt a slight chill run up her spine from the cold   
water the robe retained. The feeling passed quickly though, as her eyes settled   
on the presence of a young waiter slowly walking towards her.  
  
"Mistress." the young waiter said nervously. "Mistress, I've brought you some   
hot tea. It- it must be terribly cold outside. Here please take it- on the   
house. I swear..." This he said in a soft rush as he gently lowered a cup of   
steaming tea he carried on a tray on top of the table.   
  
Ranma smiled at the generous offering the young man gave her as the young man   
took that as acknowledgement enough and turned to leave her to her own business.   
Beaming as he passed the old man on his way to the kitchen to attend to his   
chores. Blushing and stealing brief glances here and there as went as Ranma saw   
him off. Though he looked no older than she did, she thought that it must have   
been hard for the boy to work in such a place.   
  
Not so long ago, he had also been an eager lad, innocent to the world around   
him, that he dedicated his life to the pursuit of knowledge. Where his peers had   
sought enlightenment in the martial arts, Ranma had immersed himself in his   
studies, thus he was on this journey, after the rain clears and much needed   
rest, he'd go west.  
  
Ranma smiled as her thoughts slowly brought to mind other events in her life   
before her accidental dip in that Jusenkyo pool as a ghost of a frown passed her   
lips.   
  
"You're really pretty!" said suddenly by a rough bearded man. The stench and   
sight of him was enough to cut through Ranma's reverie a bit short just as much   
as he rudely seated himself on the bench opposite from hers as he took her hand   
to caress as he continued to stare at her with a toothless grin. Cold black eyes   
peeked out from behind unruly long hair, held back by a thin piece of red cloth   
that covered most of his forehead. His expression showed utter delight for the   
smoothness of her skin. While his friends, a group of four or five men watched   
the confrontation from a secluded corner of the inn. Wearing an assortment of   
smirks and grins. Their manner as well as looks matched the man seated before   
her. One of the men in the corner she saw wore an open grin, his scar crossing   
the length of his face on his left cheek. He wore a tattered dull green jade-  
breastplate over brown and torn robes as he absently toyed with the knife in his   
hand and showing no concern at all what so ever, with what he was doing. The   
others wore the same, though some brandished swords while another had an axe   
strapped behind his back. Yet, all had the same filthy minds in their heads.  
  
"Please leave me alone." Ranma said pulling her hand free only to be taken   
forcefully back again and her along with it as she faced the man directly before   
her, their faces, only inches apart. Ranma's piercing blue eyes filled with   
contempt and hatred was focused on the object of her disdain as she tried to   
keep calm as she thought of a way to get out of here.   
  
"Why don't you join me and my friends over there..." The man offered still   
grinning, pointing to a rough bunch of guys who all had wicked smiles on their   
faces, some of the men lifting cups in her direction. Ranma felt sick in her   
stomach.  
  
"No." Ranma said with finality and irritating the man used to having his   
'requests' unquestioned.   
  
"I know your kind..." he hissed at her; at the same time slamming down a bunch   
of coins as he drew her face in closer to him for a kiss.   
  
A slap rewarded him for his troubles as Ranma stood up to leave. The thought of   
what the man had said to her still lingering in her mind. Damn the man for   
thinking me of that! She thought.   
  
The leader still shocked by the slap took a while to recover, but when he did   
suddenly stood up in a blind fury flipped the table before him to crash on the   
far wall.  
  
"NO ONE DEFIES ME WENCH!" the leader shouted as his men drew up beside him to   
confront Ranma.   
  
"Master, please..." the young waiter, said as he drew up beside the man,   
deliberately placing himself between them. "There is no need for all of this -   
Argghh!"  
  
"SHUT UP!" the leader screamed as he batted the helpless waiter aside with a   
backhanded fist to the face. The waiter caught by surprise took the full blow   
and crumpled down on the floor in pain. The leader paid the waiter no mind as   
stalked forward over the waiters crumpled body as advanced towards his prize.  
  
"Why are you doing this?!" Ranma asked as she felt the hard wood wall press   
along her spine. She didn't realize she was backing away from the approaching   
form of the man till it was finally to late. Grinning, the 'leader' leaned his   
body against hers; trapping her with his body as stretched his arms on either   
side to rest comfortably on the unyielding wall. Ranma hastily turned her face   
away from him as the leader's friends joined in for a viewing circle around them   
to watch the proceedings.  
  
"I don't know why." The man replied courtly in her ear as he continued to stare   
hungrily at her cheek as he enjoyed the feel of her body so close to his. "But I   
do know this..." he hissed breathily in her ear. "You're going to pleasure me   
all night..."  
  
The leader smiled a toothless grin at his own reply as barked a laugh at his   
mates who later joined in.   
  
Repulsed, Ranma turned her head to face him as the man lowered his face to steal   
a kiss with lips puckered up and eyes closed. Ranma outraged by his reply gave   
no hesitation as she deliberately kneed the man in the groin. The leader folded   
quickly enough in pain as his hands groped desperately at its source. Agony   
masked the man's face as Ranma shoved pass him and right into the waiting arms   
of one of the leaders men.   
  
The leader, unable to tolerate the pain, collapsed and whimpered on the floor   
before her with eyes full of hate as he rolled from side to side to relieve the   
pain. Desperately, she struggled to free herself from her captors' grip, who   
only laughed at her pitiful struggles to escape him.  
  
"You're a feisty one aren't you!" the man holding Ranma said. Clearly enjoying   
her struggle as he encircled a meaty arm around her waist to hold her better.  
  
"Let her GO!" A hard voice suddenly shouted from the back of the inn. Its call   
answered by several other voices though not as vocally as the first had been.   
Its abrupt call took the attention of the leaders men off of Ranma as they all   
looked for the source.   
  
"What'd you say?" the scarred man threatened. Brandishing his knives in his   
hands as he looked upon his audience who all tuned in on the knives he held.   
Those men forced under the scarred man's stare, fidgeted under the scrutiny, as   
fear of their own lives melted what little bravery they had.   
  
"I said, what did YOU say!" the scarred man shouted again, picking at random.  
  
"He said... let her... go..." replied a fat man slowly rising from his seat.   
Fear clearly etched on his bloated face as sweat trickled down a bloated face as   
he swallowed a small lump forming in his throat.  
  
"Why don't he just try..." The man holding the knife said. His obvious threat   
strengthened by his companions that joined him as they all looked at the   
merchant who slowly cowered in the darkness again. While the rest of the inns   
patrons just stood there in silence, watching. The old man at the counter could   
do little in anyway to help, as he felt resigned to his fate as an observer.  
  
The leader, recovering from Ranma's blow stood up, yet the pain in his groin   
made the attempt feeble, he still managed to stand with a little help from his   
followers. Anger plainly masked his face as he stared down at Ranma with pure   
hatred.  
  
"You BITCH!!" he spat as he slapped Ranma across the face as she staggered from   
the force of the blow to fall on the floor before him. A thin trail of blood   
seeped out from the side of her mouth as she felt her cheek burn with pain. Her   
mind seemingly knocked out of place made her dizzy that she failed to see the   
leader pull out a knife and level it before him.   
  
"NOOOOO!" the young boy screamed as he tackled the leader from behind.   
Encircling his arms around the leaders' waist as he pulled them both down to the   
floor a small distance away from Ranma. His battle cry was quickly swallowed by   
the noise and shouts of the leaders men as each sprung to the aide of their   
fallen leader to gang up on the boy, lifting him up as he struggled to break   
free. And it was utter chaos then, as several waiters joined in to take up the   
slack in the fighting. All the while, the men left Ranma alone on the floor.  
  
"RUN MISTRESS! RUunnnnnnnn! Aargghhh!" the young boy screamed, coughing out   
blood as the scarred man pulled out his bloody knife from the lads' back.   
  
"No..." Ranma begged it not to be true as she saw the hideous smile on the   
scarred mans lips as he slowly advanced on her.  
  
"Run..." came the gurgling reply a small smile forming on his lips as the young   
man slowly fell over and toppled on the ground, eyes glazing and looking far off   
at nothing.   
  
Nothing needed to be said, Ranma ran for the door and into the shadows of the   
night. Her mind racing with her heart, making her hear the young mans plea,   
begging her to run. To run, to run as a fawn might run from a hungry bear. Fear   
pushing, urging, demanding that she leave everything else and flee, into the   
cold night she ran, the clouds dry except for their ceaseless rumbling.   
  
"AFTER HER YOU FOOLS'! DON'T LET HER ESCAPE!" the leader screamed at his men   
when he saw Ranma escape through the doors of the inn. The men when they   
realized their prey had escaped, quickly disengaged themselves and ran after her   
to pursue her in the darkness.   
  
The old man, weak and beaten, hefted the head of the young lad in his arms, as   
they lay there on the bloody floor. Tears streaked both his eyes as he turned to   
look at the congregation of silent folk that witnessed the murder of the boy as   
they cowered in the darkness.   
  
***  
  
Somewhere, inside the forest...  
  
"Damn it! Lost her again..." a young man said upon landing on a limb of a nearby   
tree. Frustration and anger clearly etched his young face as he cursed the rain   
and his luck, for again his prey has escaped him. White bandannas danced in the   
wind accompanied by long strips of clothe wrapped around the sleeves of his   
forearms. His circular straw woven hat hung limply behind him from a string   
around his neck even as he adjusted his footing on the branch of the tree.   
  
Squatting down, with one knee balanced precariously on the limb, he held out his   
bamboo umbrella in front of him, before he drove the tip of it through bark and   
branch for added support. The wind was cold at this height, and strong even   
though the storm had passed hours ago. Smoothing out loose strands of hair that   
covered his eyes, he surveyed the scene below him. Exploring and memorizing   
every minute detail even though the moons' light afforded little as it played   
shadows in the trees and bushes, this only made the young man more careful.  
  
"I'll get you... someday..." he promised to no one as he smiled one of his   
toothy grins, playing on a memory only he could see; that he was so sure of   
himself, it surprised even him.  
  
"But first, I need to find my way baacc...huh?"   
  
Ryouga paused as the sounds of frantic running accompanied by the not so subtle   
shouts and screams of men shattered the stillness of the forest. Severing all   
thoughts as caution and irritation emerged instantly, who could be so stupid to   
wander into this forest at night he thought. Guess I should warn them that this   
forest is haunted...   
  
Leaping from his perch, he scanned the forest from the air; the need for action   
was unbearable as he readily jumped from tree to tree. Instinctively, he hurried   
his pace.  
  
***  
  
"When I find that girl, I SWEAR, she will be sorry she ever tried to cross me   
THIS I PROMISE!"  
  
"Boss, what if we don't find her?"  
  
"I don't care if you trip on your face trying! JUST FIND HER! She will warm our   
bodies till the night is over."  
  
And with this thought firmly lodged in the men's minds, they ran like eager   
wolves in a hunt.  
  
***  
  
Ranma felt her heart beat. A furious drumming that rang in her ears as the need   
for air came in short desperate gulps. Muscles too tired from running, strained   
with fatigue as exhaustion and pain took its toll on her weary body. Her vision   
limited by the darkness and as well as the slowly forming fog creeping on the   
forests' floor slowed her pace significantly. The fear of the men chasing her as   
well as the fear of tripping or breaking a leg would only ensure her greatest   
fears. The wind gave no comfort either; her clothes chilled her with its wetness   
as much as the shouts and curses brought on by her pursuers, growing stronger   
and audible by the minute. Her fear of what they would do to her when they   
finally caught her spurred her even more to run.   
  
The wind swiftly passed by Ranma's sleek form as she dodged pass trees, roots   
and branches. Sweat stung her eyes making it hard to see the uneven path through   
the forest. She began to falter under the agony and strain of sore muscles.   
Delirious from the pain, her mind briefly wandered from the trail, and she   
looked back and lost her footing when she tripped on an exposed root in her   
sprint.   
  
Rolling and tumbling pass shrubs and soil; she skidded to a stop in a small   
clearing. Pain dulled her senses even further as she desperately tried to get up   
but was unable to as a searing pain shot up from her ankle and she whimpered in   
terrible pain. In her feverish mind, she knew she had to go on even if it meant   
that she had to drag herself on the ground. The sounds of pursuit were getting   
closer and closer, and as she lay defenseless on the ground, she despaired as   
the thought of the wolves feasting on her naked flesh. Her vision began dim and   
her mind felt cloudy as she wavered in and out of consciousness as the extent of   
her wounds took its toll on her body as she caught the shreds of a high-pitched   
scream and the sounds of metal scrapping upon metal before she finally slipped   
into the waiting arms of darkness.   
  
  
  
  
-End Chapter One: Braving the Storm-  
  
Next Chapter: Lotus Temple  
  
  
  
  
Gallery:  
http://www.geocities.com/soul_fate/pictures/Ranko.jpg   
  
  
  
  
Authors note:   
  
  
This is a Revised Version of a fanfic I did 3 years ago, for this version, I   
edited out most of the description as most of my readers found it annoying to   
read through a lot of text. :) Anyway, I just hope you enjoyed the story and   
that chapters 2-4 are also under revision, but for those who are a little   
impatient, one can find those chapters at my site.   
  
I got this Ranma 1/2 fanfic inspiration from the movie "A Chinese Ghost Story"   
and as much as I would like to stick to the original story. I must differ from   
it because of the characters "changes" and besides I can't duplicate such a   
great story. To all those who haven't seen the movie, Watch it! It is a GREAT   
film. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read this.  
  
  
Character Backgrounds: (If you were wondering...a little explanation.)  
  
Ranma/Ranko:   
  
Ranma is a traveling scholar, a learned man/woman. Who writes and composes poems   
and stories, which he/she sells in the towns he passes by for a living. Much of   
his past will be revealed in upcoming chapters. But as we all know, the real   
Ranma can be such a jerk sometimes; this Ranma will be much gentler.  
  
  
Ryouga:   
  
Ryouga in this story is a wandering Taoist monk who fights to keep both the   
spirit world and the mortal world separate and from destroying each other. He,   
like Ryouga is pretty gullible and innocent to the world.  
  
Anyway, all comments/flames are welcome.  
  
  
Disclaimer:  
All characters and rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi to whom none of this would   
be possible and to the creators of the movie "A Chinese Ghost Story" to which I   
based this fanfic from.  
  



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